


True Genius

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [77]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29816877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Summary: Piper gets a call from an old friend about the Zodiac Killer; Spencer doubts if he really is where he belongs.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [77]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

“Pen, I really don’t want to do this,” Piper grimaced on her bar stool. She was sitting right in front of Derek and Penelope, her choppy brown hair spilling out of its ponytail. Her simple small hoop earrings matches the simplicity of her wool pea-green sweater that was tucked into a dark brown belt. Her sneakers tapped against the base of her chair as the next song faded.

“It’s one song, how bad could it be?” Penelope asked. “And that last girl was terrible, and they still applauded.” Penelope was wearing a dark patterned dress that clung to her frame. Her headband matched her dress, and her eyes were glittery behind the rim of her glasses.

“Come on, Pipes,” Derek egged her on, spinning his half-full glass of beer. “How bad could it be?” He grinned, looking like a maniac as his shoulders practically touched Penelope’s, his dark button-up tight against his broad shoulders.

“Okay, you both suck so much,” Piper said, returning to her soda. “I hate solo open mics. I haven’t been to one—"

“Since 1997, we know. Look, it’s one song and you need to get back to your roots,” Penelope said, slapping Piper’s arm playfully. Piper sighed deeply. Her week off was up and after this weekend, she was supposed to get back to work. Penelope had insisted Piper have some fun when she found out she’d spent the week moving into the new loft and consulting on private jobs.

“I hate you both, you know that, right?”

“Yeah! Piper!” Penelope whooped and Piper cursed under her breath. She regretted telling Penelope anything and she sat on the stool reluctantly.

“Hey,” she called out to the audience. “I’m Piper and I’d like to play something for you against my will.” When stuck, revert to sarcastic humour which surprisingly worked with silent laughter rippling gently through the small crowd. “And I’m begging you to sing along if you know the words.” Plugging in the semi-acoustic, she bit her lip, focusing on the key and started strumming. Within seconds the younger members of the crowd started to recognise the song, and slightly question why a 30-year-old was playing it but nevertheless, Piper had managed to get half of the crowd belting out the first line, scaring both Derek and Penelope.

_ “Am I more than you bargained for yet?” _

* * *

In Chicago, Spencer sat reluctantly on a chair in front of another group of people, all of them uninterested in the seminar. Specifically, his part in it. His throat immediately went dry, and he swallowed hard before starting, trying his hardest to exude confidence.  _ When stuck, revert to what you know. _ “Hi. I am here today to talk to you about paraphilias and their relation to violent crime,” he started. “Does anybody know what dendrophilia is?” Silence rippled through his audience. “That’s right. A fetish for trees,” he said, his mouth folding into a line. This wasn’t going to end well. And it didn’t. Spencer ended up in the back of the hall with Emily surrounded by 4 audience members in front of him. He grew steadily uncomfortable and his urge to get out was amplified the longer he spent in the room until eventually, he backed out through the double doors.

“Dr Reid?” He turned around, seeing a young man calling out his name. “Hey, you were fantastic up there. I have a new list to memorise.” He couldn’t be much older than 20, wearing a hoodie and graphic tee-shirt.

“You like memorising lists?” Spencer asked.

“I’m weird that way,” the boy confessed.

“That's not weird at all,” Spencer affirmed enthusiastically. “I do it all the time. You know, we don't usually get people your age here. You're in school, I assume?”

“I’m a senior at Michigan,” he admitted, making Spencer remember his senior year and Gideon.

“You know what? You might like the FBI's internship program,” Spencer said, pulling out his business card. “Unfortunately, we're already past the deadline, but if you write me a letter, I might be able to pull some strings.” The young man grasped it hesitantly.

“Uh…thanks but I don’t think my board of directors would appreciate it,” he said uneasily, confusing Spencer slightly. “I have a company. Have you heard of Nanovex?” Spencer’s furrowed brow straightened as he realised who he was talking to.

“Nanovex, as in the company Landis Pharmaceutical’s investing 100 million dollars in, Nanovex?”

“It's not a done deal yet,” the guy said shyly. “Uh, but, hey, you were awesome up there. You saved me from a company party downstairs that was a total snoozefest. Keep up the good work,” he said, smiling broadly before making his way down the hallway

“You too,” Spencer murmured, his forehead wrinkling again.

“Hey, who was that?” Emily asked, joining him, a copy of Patricia Cornwall’s new book in her arms.

“That was the founder of Nanovex,” Spencer whispered, though there was no real need to. He was just excited.

“Never heard of it,” Emily confessed in her normal speaking voice.

“They make magnetically responsive nanoparticles for targeted drug delivery to tumour cells,” Spencer explained.

“Still never heard of it.”

“You will,” Spencer said, his gaze following the young student who ran down the hallway. “It’s gonna change the world.”

* * *

“I told you,” Penelope said, shaking Piper’s body as she protected her guitar. “You were awesome up there.” The trio stood alone in the late Georgetown streets.

“Yeah, how’d you know they’d sing along?” Derek asked, slightly disappointed that he couldn’t make fun of Piper.

“It’s Fall Out Boy,” Piper said, as though that was the answer to everything. “That song came out in 2008, it’s still one of the best rock songs of the 21 st century,” she said, reaching into her pocket for her cell. “That’s weird.”

“What’s up?” Derek asked with an arm around Penelope’s, the other hand adjusting his blue bowler hat.

“It’s one of my old professors. Hold on.” They watched Piper walk off to the curb, her guitar in its bag, slung over her shoulders.

“Derek, you’re a profiler, what’s happening?” Penelope asked, prodding his muscles softly, trying to deny how good it felt.

“I dunno, I’m only an expert on criminal behaviour.”

“Oh, you completely suck,” Penelope said, jutting out her lower lip as Piper returned.

“I just got a call from Professor Wilson. One of his students was found in a car with his girlfriend and they were shot multiple times.” Penelope’s jaw dropped.

“Why’d he call you?”

“Wilson keeps tabs on all his ex-students,” Piper rambled. “He likes to know he’s had an impact on his students—it doesn’t matter,” she dismissed. “What matters is that he used the Zodiac Killer’s signature.”


	2. Chapter 2

“So, who’s Patricia Cornwall?” Piper asked, stirring a spoon through her coffee as she and Spencer sat down on the jet couch, waiting for take-off. He and Emily had just gotten back from their seminar a few hours ago and Penelope had called them in immediately for the briefing. He looked jetlagged and tired, making Piper regret asking them all in for this case.

“The famous crime novelist?” Spencer reminded her, running a hand through his hair and Piper thought over it.

“Nope, no bells here,” Piper admitted.

“She’s written best-selling novels focusing on forensic science as part of the crime genre.”

“Yeah, well, just goes to show you should be more exclusive about your seminars,” Piper said sagely while Spencer’s brow furrowed.

“When’s the last time you went to a seminar?” Piper’s forehead wrinkled in thought and she jutted out her bottom lips.

“3 months ago, San Diego, and it wasn’t a seminar, it was a workshop on how to write effective psych lab reports.”

“So you’re saying it was a fruitless venture?” Spencer asked.

“No, I’m saying you have to make the most of the time you’ve got,” Piper said, sipping on her coffee. “Go to the conferences that are worthwhile that either you or someone else can learn from.” Piper sniffed, turning to face him better, her warm hand resting gently on his thigh. “You spent half an hour talking about paraphilias to people who weren’t even interested when you could have been doing anything else,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “Like maybe helping me build a bookshelf while I was injured,” she said pointedly, hiding her smirk with another sip of coffee.

“You had Derek and Hotch to help you out,” Spencer protested but Piper only narrowed her eyes.

“Fine,” she sighed. “So what about this Nanovex guy?”

“I mean, he just seemed like a normal kid. He said he was a senior at Michigan and he owns Nanovex.” Piper shrugged.

“So?”

“So, I completely embarrassed myself in front of the CEO--”

“He’s not the CEO, he’s the owner, it’s completely different,” Piper corrected him and he looked at her blankly. “Sorry, continue.”

“I gave him my card and offered him a chance at the internship program.”

“So, you were doing a nice thing,” Piper said, her voice slightly rising in pitch. “And he complimented you too.”

“For talking about paraphilias, Pipes. I was a distraction, and it was a complete waste of time. I can’t remember the last time I went to a meaningful seminar.” Piper sighed. “I mean, he’s just a kid. What was I doing when I was 20?”

“Working on your PhD,” Piper pointed out. “And so he owns a company. For all we know, he might just be the kid of a rich guy. And yes, the company is pitching a pretty promising project, but this kid isn’t the guy in the lab,” Piper tried. “He’s just the guy on top and I’m gonna guess that the reason for that isn’t the kid’s intelligence. It’s gonna be access to resources.”

“Yeah, except his research is gonna change the world.”

“But it isn’t  _ his _ research. He skipped out on a company party, he was wearing a hoodie and a graphic tee-shirt, he didn’t tell you his name and he didn’t seem particularly proud of his company. What does that tell you?” Spencer stared into his lap, his usually floppy fringe tucked behind his ear. Piper’s left-hand rose to the back of the couch, resting so that her fingers could play with his hair.

“I dunno, Pipes. I just saw this kid and he just…”

“He reminded you of yourself,” Piper filled in. “And that’s perfectly natural. But, Spence, you have saved so many lives, protected so many people. Don’t sell yourself short,” Piper said, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as Hotch called everyone in to review the case.

David Atley and Nicole Puli were both grad students at Berkeley, shot multiple times in the Marin Headlands in their car, mirroring the Zodiac Killer’s first confirmed incident. An isolated couple in the middle of nowhere, shot multiple times and the symbol of a reticule painted on the front in their blood. A picture was found in the car of Marcia Miller, a woman that local police found dead in 1971 in Napa. The second souvenir mirrored the Zodiac Killer’s last confirmed victim, Paul Stine, a cab driver who had been shot in 1969. Pieces of his shirt had been sent to local police back then with a signature cryptogram. Similarly, a bloody shirt had been found in the trunk of David Atley’s car and preliminary tests reported it was the same blood type as Paul. 

“The bottom line is Zodiac is the most well-documented unsolved serial killing case in modern times,” Rossi started as they settled into their seats. Aaron and Derek sat in front of him and JJ while Emily was perched on a nearby table and both Spencer and Piper remained standing on either side of the middle booth, all of them with their identical paper or digital files.

“There have been two known copycats,” Spencer announced. “The first one was Heriberto Seda. He killed 3 and wounded 4 in New York City. And then there was a 14-year-old in Japan named Saito Sakakibara. He killed two other children and left the sign of the Zodiac behind.”

“The fact is, the Zodiac was driven by a need for notoriety and control,” David continued. “He enjoyed the terror he spread through the city.”

“And then through the world, until he vanished in 1974 after his last letter,” JJ said. 

“This kind of guy doesn’t just stop killing for 40 years,” Piper offered, narrowing her eyes in thought. “Something interrupted him. Maybe a trip to prison or a mental hospital. I can Garcia to look at recent releases, do a quick psych eval.”

“It's a long time to be dormant with no evolution in the M.O,” Emily pointed out.

“Bishop, go through recent discharges and releases at the field office with Prentiss,” Aaron ordered. “Rossi, Morgan, check in with the original detective on the case. The rest of us will check out the crime scene.”

Spencer was quick to dismiss the original Zodiac while Aaron and JJ confirmed the overkill was on the young woman, Nicole. Everything matched the original crime, down to the ballistics and the shoe size of prints and while no letters had been sent, the SF Chronicle’s website manager received a phone call with heavy breathing on the other end of the line. It was almost too perfect, Spencer picked up. It wasn’t the Zodiac, it was someone pretending to be one. JJ watched him leave in a rush, narrowing her eyes at his retreating body.

* * *

“So, how was your week off?” Emily asked as Nicole’s mother left the interview room, making Piper look up from her documents.

“Uneventful,” she said, before turning back to her files. “San Francisco mental facilities are usually thorough with their discharges and everyone’s gotten clean psych evaluations. Same for the prison system.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Emily said, leaning back. “We’re profilers, you can’t hide from me.” Piper narrowed her eyes at her.

“Don’t you have a degree in criminal justice?” Piper said, leaning forward on her elbows with a smirk.

“Yes, but I do know you. What’s going on?” She sighed.

“Something’s up with Spencer and I don’t--” She let out a deep breath. “I got a job offer. Project manager at a research institute.” Emily’s smile broadened.

“Pipes, congrats,” Emily said. “So, are you gonna take it?” Piper shrugged.

“I could. It’s promising, and I could work from DC. There are about half a dozen universities from SoCal to Boston investing in it.”

“What’s the project?” Emily asked, her forehead wrinkling.

“Remember Nanovex?”

“No…” Emily said, smiling surprised.

“It’s not what you think. It’s…” Piper stumbled over her words. “It’s just...Nanovex is working on the technology to break the blood-brain barrier--”

“Yeah, you were talking about it on the jet. So?”

“So, once it does that, it means we can change the chemical composition of the brain. We can fix mood disorders, personality disorders. It could change the world.”

“And you’re going to be the project manager?” Emily asked incredulously.

“I could be,” Piper said reluctantly, making Emily laugh.

“Pipes, no offence, but you look like someone’s asking you to shoot a puppy.”

“No, but they are asking me to effectively put a bullet into Spencer’s happiness,” Piper scoffed, scribbling out a name on her document. “Just this morning, I had a talk with him about self-esteem issues. How am I supposed to tell him this?” Emily’s forehead wrinkled.

“Isn’t this like, your dream opportunity?” Piper rubbed her face.

“Of course, it is. But this is more than just a job,” she said emphatically. “This team is like my family. And Spencer’s gonna see this as betrayal.”

“No, he won’t,” Emily said.

“Yes, he will,” Piper argued, flipping a page.

“No, he won’t,” Emily retorted, emphasising each word as she leaned forward to grasp Piper’s hand. “He’s gonna be happy for you. And this is still going to be your family when you walk out those doors. We are still going to have brunch, and soccer games and pasta night.” Piper snorted softly. “So, how much time do you have?”

“The project isn’t due to start until next summer,” Piper said dismissively. “I’ve got a good while to think about it.”

“And uh, your hot French friend, is he in the project too?” Emily asked, smiling.

“Really? What happened to Maddie Henderson?” Piper asked, smirking softly and Emily blanched slightly.

“How would I know?” Emily asked nonchalantly.

“You’re only lying to yourself,” Piper sighed, spinning her chair and her gaze was caught to the press conference on the steps of the federal building, 12 feet below their feet. “What the—” She watched the reporters gather, taking pictures of a middle-aged man, probably with a job where he was constantly overlooked.

“The dates match,” he insisted. “When Zodiac stopped killing, my cousin was put in a mental hospital in Mexico. He was released 2 months ago.” 

“Do you have anything more specific?” One of the reporters piped up as a SUV rolled up behind them. “He was working on a production of "The Mikado" in '68. The Zodiac talked about "The Mikado" in a letter.” Piper watched Spencer exit the vehicle, rolling up his sleeves as he approached the figurative podium.

“This ought to be fun,” Piper murmured to Emily who had glided up to the window to watch.

“I’m Dr Reid with the Behavioural Analysis Unit. “Was your cousin by chance a fan of Wagner? Because a CD of the "Tragic Overture" was sent to the police this morning.” 

“He loved Wagner,” the man replied instantly. “Especially the Tragic Overture. It's him.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Spencer scoffed, moving him aside to address the reporters. “Well, for the record, a CD was not sent to the police this morning, and the "Tragic Overture" was written by Brahms, not Wagner, so luckily, I guess it's not your cousin,” he said pointedly, making some of the reporters snicker slightly. “The FBI would greatly appreciate it if people would stop making false claims to get their 15 minutes of fame. Thank you.” Aaron clapped him slightly on the shoulder while JJ followed them into the building lobby to make their way up to their office. 

“Nice work down there,” Emily snickered as the trio made their way over. Piper offered a smile to Spencer but he still seemed stormy, heading straight for the printer to collect the day’s paper.

“Detective Yarborough has Parkinson’s,” Piper said, clearing her throat. “So, he wasn’t able to tell Rossi and Morgan much, but they think the photo of Marcia Miller must have been stolen from there. His wife couldn’t remember many names either.”

“That’s all right,” Aaron replied. “We'll show her photos when we have a suspect.”

“I talked to Nicole Puli's mother,” Emily offered next. “It doesn't seem she was stalked.”

“She was probably a surrogate,” Piper suggested as JJ checked her phone. “It was meant to be quick but the copycat must have gotten carried away.” She turned in her seat, watching Spencer go through each page with tremendous speed, his pointer finger gliding over the papers.

“And lab results are back on the fabric,” JJ relayed. “Doesn’t match the original cab driver.”

“Guess you were right,” Aaron said to Spencer who looked up, only mildly annoyed.

“Computers slow me down, so I prefer paper, but I wasn't expecting all these comments,” Spencer said, realising there were about 35 sheets. “Where do people find the time?”

“Don’t let him see Twitter,” JJ warned Piper who snickered despite her will but Spencer had already turned back to the printouts with a red pen, crossing names out violently before honing in on one particular comment.

“I think I just found a cipher from the unsub. The symbols buried in the spam are the same ones the Zodiac used in his first message back in 1969.”

“Copycat must be young if he’s going digital,” Piper remarked. 

“What does it say?” Aaron prompted him and Spencer turned back to the paper, needing less than a minute to rearrange the letters to form words.

"Killing is the most fun you can have 98 minutes below the horizon in Magic City with President Garfield. Happy hunting," he replied and Emily dialled Garcia immediately.

“The oracle is in. How may I assist?”

“What location does Magic City refer to?” Emily asked.

“Birmingham, Alabama. Next!”

“98 minutes below the horizon,” JJ murmured. “What time is sunset there?”

“6:22 pm. Next!”

“98 minutes there would be 8 p.m,” Spencer calculated. “What's dedicated to President Garfield in San Francisco?”

“There’s a statue of him in Golden Gate Park,” Piper called out before Penelope could answer.

“Oh, you suck!” Piper grinned, making Emily snicker slightly.

“Love you too, Penny.” Emily hung up as Aaron went to find the detective to organise a raid. Spencer collected all the print-outs of the SF Chronicle, only looking up when Piper murmured a name, recognising a familiar face. Emily and Spencer watched her move from her seat to an attractive man in his late 40s. Emily guessed that was Professor Wilson and Spencer watched with narrowed eyes as they hugged before leaving together.

“We’ve got a raid in less than 6 hours,” Spencer remarked coldly. “Should she be leaving?” Emily shrugged.

“Piper’s not going into the field anyway,” Emily said, sinking into her seat while Spencer watched the elevator doors close.


	3. Chapter 3

“Have you given it any thought?” Wilson asked her. They were sitting in a brightly sunlit courtyard a block away from the field office, lattes in each hand. Piper spun her chai latte while Wilson left it to cool slightly on the table.

“Of course I have, you know me,” Piper said absently. “Always overthinking everything. Waiting for the shoe to drop.”

“For someone else you care about to walk out the door,” Wilson mused, a smug smirk on his lips. “I taught you everything you know about behaviour. Your body’s facing the courtyard instead of me. You hang your right arm on the back of a chair to appear nonchalant but the way you rub your fingers against each other suggests otherwise. And you’re spinning that latte more than a centrifuge. You’re anxious.” Piper frowned at that analysis.

“I’m always anxious, Geoff,” she scoffed. “Nothing new in that analysis.”

“It’s a promising project,” Geoff remarked.

“They always are,” Piper mused. “I’d be throwing away a career for an uninsured project.” Geoff snickered at that.

“Since when do you analyse risk?” Geoff asked. “The young Piper I knew was 18, so horribly new to the world and yet determined to make a mark on it. To stand her ground and say, this is me, this is what I’m going to do and if you don’t like it, shove the hell off.” Piper grinned. 

“That’s the difference, I suppose,” Piper said thoughtfully. “That Piper had nothing to lose. This one does.”

“Dr Reid,” Geoff surmised and Piper nodded, unsurprised that he knew. “You’re in love.” 

“Stop it,” she warned playfully.

“And here I thought Arthur would be your one and only.” Piper clicked her tongue.

“I didn’t love him, not like that,” she corrected. “He was a close friend, one I trusted intimately. His misunderstanding can’t be pinned on me.” Geoff understood, backing off immediately.

“I read your article the other day. The Fascination Behind Serial Killers. How humanity is desperate to wipe away the ugly truth.” Piper groaned.

“Not my finest work,” she muttered lamely.

“It was sloppy,” Geoff said. “Piper, you’re an academic. It’s in your blood. Sooner or later, law enforcement will not suffice it for you.”

“Geoff, it’s dangerous,” Piper sighed. “I went back into research for a week, fell down a rabbit hole and I stopped eating, drinking. I was so obsessed with brain scans that I turned into a blubbering mess. It’s an addiction.”

“Caffeine is an addiction, it doesn’t mean you stop drinking it.” Geoff glanced down at his watch. “I’ve got a class in a half-hour, I should leave now.” He pulled out a 10-dollar bill from his wallet and Piper protested. “My treat,” he insisted, leaving the bill on the table and standing with his latte. “Just keep this in mind. The Piper I knew would leap at the opportunity to change the world.” Piper pouted in thought.

“Or maybe the world changed her,” she retorted, making Geoff chuckle.

“You really are your mother’s daughter,” he sighed. “Take care of yourself.”

“No need to,” Piper said, taking a sip of her chai latte. “I’ve got you doing that apparently.” He pointed at her emphatically.

“I promised your mother I would keep an eye out on you. That and to keep telling your father how astonishing you are.”

“Yeah, well.” Piper looked around the busy, familiar courtyard. The fountain where she used to busk for fun. The baseball pitch, a quarter-mile away. “You know him. He never listens, does he?”

“No, peach. Good luck with your killer,” he murmured, pressing a hug to her. She melted into the embrace.

“Good luck with your students,” Piper said, snorting slightly.

“Dear God, I’m going to need it,” he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. She watched him leave with a tender look in her eye. He had known her better than anyone. He had known her mother well too, even though they were in different faculties. His confidence in her had never wavered, although she had a slight inkling her mother had something to do with that. Either way, according to him, she had changed. She didn’t have the same youthfulness, or optimism, or ferocity anymore. Maybe her old professor was right.

* * *

It was sunset by the time she’d made it back to the field office, watching everyone gear up. She padded over to Spencer, her brown eyes sliding over his frame. “You’re gonna be okay, right?”

“King of okay, remember?” Spencer said, a slight smirk on his face. “Where’d you disappear off to? You missed the raid details.” Piper huffed slightly.

“Your positions are all on the map and besides,” Piper said, brushing her fingers against his knuckles. “I’ve only got eyes for you.” Spencer grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead before rushing off. Piper crossed her arms uneasily, watching his retreating figure.

“I’ll watch his back,” Aaron prompted, relieving her of her thoughts and Piper smiled absently.

“Thank you,” she murmured, watching her team filter out one by one. While Piper began humming music to help calm her down, Spencer and Aaron lay in wait by the south entrance. Emily and JJ held guard just north of them while Derek and David were with extra units on the west and east entrances. They were an hour early, darkness settling quickly over them. Emily had grown bored with the stakeout, deciding to take a seat against the base of the tree while JJ kept a lookout.

“You know, Piper’s thinking of leaving,” Emily blurted out eventually, finally shaking JJ’s fierce focus.

“What? Why?”

“She got an offer,” Emily said simply. “I didn’t understand any of it but it seemed pretty cool.” JJ’s face turned morose in the darkness. “She says she’s still deciding but we both know what that means,” Emily scoffed. JJ nodded, leaning on a thick branch, still keeping an eye out.

“A part of her wants to stay with the team,” JJ said sadly. “You know, I read her file when she joined, it was protocol. She’s never had the same job for more than a year.”

“Never one to sit still,” Emily scoffed. “It’s a miracle she stayed this long.”

On the other side, Aaron took a moment to glance back at Spencer whose gaze was focused more than necessary on the gate, his eyes glittering slightly in the starlight. “You okay, Reid?” Aaron asked quietly. Clearly, Emily and JJ had forgotten to switch their comms off before their conversation.

“Let’s just get this guy and go home,” Spencer said quickly. “12 o’clock,” he said, nodding slightly towards the car that had just pulled up to the entrance. Aaron pulled up his binoculars.

“Lone driver. All units on the south side, move in now,” Aaron ordered quickly and both he and Spencer pulled their torches to eye level, charging for the car while yelling their ID. A young man emerged from the vehicle, claiming someone paid him to deliver a message to Dr Reid.

_ You’re not as smart as you think you are. _


	4. Chapter 4

Emily had updated Piper over the phone and Aaron had ordered everyone to get some sleep. The hotel was barely a 2 minute walk from the field office and Piper had managed a shower and a change of clothes before Spencer let himself into the room. His expression was murky, stormy as he let his messenger bag slide to the floor and he pressed an almost cold kiss to Piper’s forehead. She was sitting in the armchair, a John Keats collection in her hand. She was wearing her soft sweatshirt and loose sweatpants, her damp hair tied up messily, tucked into a sloppy bun and a pair of glasses balanced on her nose. “Spence, you look stressed,” she murmured, watching him take his shoes off.

“We didn’t get him,” Spencer answered the unasked question. “Just a messenger. How could I be so stupid?” Immediately, Piper abandoned her book, leaving to settle besides Spencer on the bed.

“Hey, you weren’t being stupid. He left us a message and we followed it.”

“And now, he thinks he’s smarter than us,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Piper’s shoulders sagged.

“He’s wrong. If he was smart, he would have picked another M.O. He would have been original. And if he thinks he’s smarter than you, he’s being arrogant and smug.” Spencer sighed deeply, letting Piper wrap her arms around him.

“I’m not the behavioural expert, Pipes. That’s meant to be you. Did you think he would show up?”

“I hoped he would,” Piper said and Spencer straightened, brushing her off him.

“But you knew he wouldn’t turn up.” 

“I didn’t  _ know _ anything. I thought it was weird that he told us exactly where he would be,” Piper shrugged. “Maybe pick another target to show us up.”

“You knew I was wrong,” Spencer said, his eyes hurt and vulnerable as he stood up. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Spence, I wasn’t going to tell Hotch to ignore the message,” Piper tried, running a hand through her hair.

“He used the same code that was broken years ago in a riddle we cracked in seconds,” Spencer said bitterly, shaking his head. “He wants to prove that he's smarter than everyone. And I fell for it.”

“Spencer, I’m begging you, don’t do this to yourself,” Piper pleaded but Spencer snorted, standing up.

“You probably think the same thing. That he’s smarter than me too.”

“If this unsub was even half as smart as you are, he would know you’re going to beat him,” Piper said firmly. “And if he’s looking for validation from you, then he’s probably insecure.” Piper narrowed her eyes, as though she’d stumbled on something. “Menial job, probably lower class, trying to prove himself.” Spencer shook his head as though Piper had proven his point for him. “Never mind, Spencer, listen.” Piper took his hands, squeezing softly. “One mistake doesn’t make you an idiot. You are the  _ best _ at your job, you hear me? No-one else could have deciphered that message.” Spencer bit his lip.

“Really?” Spencer asked. “Garcia could have run it through her software.”

“Not as fast as you did,” Piper assured him. “And you are more advanced than any computer.” Usually that would have worked, but every word Piper uttered seemed to be ripping him apart more than stitching him back together. “Spencer, tell me how to make this better,” she pleaded. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“Then how could you even consider leaving this job? Leaving me?” Piper’s lips parted in surprise, shock and a twinge of anger. Mostly at Emily. 

“I was going to tell--”

“When?” he asked. “After you accepted the job?”

“This morning,” Piper sighed. “I just--you looked so crushed after your conference, I didn’t want to hurt you more.”

“Because you’re accepting the job, right? Why else would it hurt me?” He scoffed, pulling away from her and sitting on the bed, his arms resting on his knees. 

She bit her lip, “I don’t know.” She couldn’t lie to him, that would only make things worse. So, she admitted the truth: she didn’t know. “It’s a great opportunity, and something that I would do great work with. But, I don’t want to leave the BAU either.” Piper took a hesitant step towards him, and when he didn’t make a move to push her away, she sat down beside him. Pulling her legs onto the bed, tucking them under her body, she stared at the floor, “I wanted to talk to you about it, but when the time was right.”

Spencer gave a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders. He still looked angry, but his anger was fading. She could see by the slump of his shoulders, the curve of his back, and the distant look in his eyes. He looked tired. “What’s the job?” He finally asked. 

Piper closed her eyes, wishing this conversation was happening at any other time. “Um, it’s a position as project manager,” Piper managed, not sure how to exclude Nanovex from this job description. “About potential treatments.”

“Piper, I’m not a child,” Spencer said firmly, meeting her soft gaze. “Just tell me what it is.” She felt tears prick up in her eyes and she stared at the bedsheets.

“Nanovex focuses on targeted drug delivery, but not the drug itself,” she said, her voice hollow. “It’s got the potential to have breakthroughs with a variety of mental disorders but the...the clinical trials have to be unified. They have to support each other and each trial… well, according to Wilson, every major psychology department is trying to fund this project.”

“That’s why you didn’t tell me? Because you thought I couldn’t handle the idea of you working on something, um, what was it?” he scoffed. “Worthwhile?” Piper closed her eyes, ordering them to stop tearing up. 

“I didn’t want you to feel bad...or,” her voice cracked.

“Or what?” Spencer said quietly.

“Resentful,” she said, the word barely audible. 

“Piper, I’m not resentful!” he cried out, his voice rough in frustration. “I’m always going to be proud of you. You’re brilliant and...I’m just me.”

“That’s not true,” Piper said, unable to stop the tears anymore, finally looking up as Spencer brushed them away. “I used to be a teacher. A high school history teacher, you remember that?”

“You were disillusioned,” Spencer said softly.

“I want this job,” she admitted. “But not above you. And frankly, I’m terrified of going back into academics.”

“You love academics,” Spencer said confusedly.

“Yeah, but it--it does things to me, Spence,” Piper said helplessly. “I stop eating and sleeping. Coffee cups end up everywhere and then one day, I take too much Adderall and then I’m on the floor of the lab, seizing up until someone realised I was missing too long.” It sounded too specific to be a hypothetical and she refused to meet his gaze. “I can live without the offer, Spence. I’m not sure if I can without you,” she whispered.

“You won’t have to,” he said softly. “I’m right here and I won’t let that happen to you. And I can’t imagine doing this job without you. I love that I get to do this with you. But I love you more than anything. So, whatever your decision, I’m with you.” Piper nodded, scooting closer to him. Her hand moved up to his face, cupping his jaw as her thumb caressed his cheekbone.

“And I need you to know that you, Dr Spencer Reid, have the ability to do anything you want. You have PhDs in Maths, Chemistry and Engineering. You’ve got a bachelor’s in Psychology, Sociology and Philosophy. You have bewildered and beaten anyone who has ever doubted or belittled you, including me. You will always be the smartest, most intelligent and caring man I will ever have the pleasure of meeting. And I will always love you,” Piper said. “I don’t care if you think it’s stupid. You, Spencer Reid, will be the best kind of mistake.” Spencer couldn’t stop staring at her, and he didn’t particularly want to. 

“I love you too,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“You better,” Piper said, smirking against his lips. “That was a damn good speech.” Spencer chuckled, kissing her as though they had all the time in the world.

* * *

Piper’s deep, brown eyes blinked in rosy sunlight, turning them a lighter shade than usual. “Morning, Dr Bishop,” Spencer chuckled, pressing a light kiss on her nose. She murmured delightedly, tucking her body into Spencer’s.

“Morning, Dr Reid.” She closed her eyes again, her head resting on his bare shoulder. His right hand came up on her almond skin, trailing an incoherent design on her shoulder as she pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone. “How long have you been up?”

“10 minutes and 52 seconds,” he murmured and Piper’s brow furrowed.

“What’s going on?” she murmured.

“Just thinking,” he replied, feeling Piper’s gaze against his. “What the job would be like without you.” Her hand came up to rest against his bare chest.

“You know I haven’t decided yet.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “It just--it got me thinking that maybe we shouldn’t be doing this job forever.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, everything would be simpler, don’t you think? We could get married, have kids--”

“I swear to God, Reid, if you even think of proposing to me while we’re in bed, I will kill you,” Piper said seriously, making Spencer laugh softly. “Imagine telling that story to Penelope.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t know if we should be doing this forever,” Spencer said. “We’ve cut so many close calls with Hankel and Simmons.”

“Yeah, I know,” Piper said. “And if you ever want to call it quits, I’m here. Right by your side.”

“I know,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “And I love you for that. But I keep seeing that couple in my head. And I failed them last night.”

“You didn’t fail anyone,” Piper assured him, rising only so she could press a soft kiss to his lips. “You did everything you could. And we’re gonna keep going till we nail this guy.”

“Yeah, until there is no ‘we’, Pipes. I love this job, and I love helping people and I love it even more when I get to do it with you.” 

“So do I, Spence. But the truth is, we don’t have to decide anything now. They’re still setting up the details and in all likelihood, I don’t have to make a decision until January.” She nestled her head next to Spencer’s, murmuring softly. “The only thing we have to do is nail this guy.” Spencer smiled, capturing her lips softly, tugging at her bottom lip as he pulled away.

“Trust you to make everything sound so simple,” he smirked and Piper closed her eyes in peace until their cells buzzed simultaneously. Groaning, Piper rolled over to her bedside table, picking up the cell.

“What?” she grumbled.

_“You’re not Reid,”_ Morgan said delightedly.

“You suck, hold on.” She rolled over, switching cells with Spencer. “What?” she grumbled, the exact same tone of voice.

_ “Sorry to ruin your beauty sleep,  principessa _ _but we got work to do. Two murders near a restaurant called 310 Eatery.”_ Piper pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to place it in her map of the city.

“The one near Albany Park?”

_ “That’s the one.” _

“The breakfast there is to die for,” Piper murmured, already thinking about food.

_ “Yeah, well, I don’t think they were planning on it to be their last meal. How fast can you get there?” _

“20 minutes on a bike, tops.”

_ “I’ll get Hotch to pull the strings. Get dressed, meet me outside the field office in 10 minutes.” _

“Got it, Gramps,” Piper said tiredly, hanging up. “Crime scene at Albany Park,” she relayed, rising up with a yawn.

“Morgan wants me to work victimology with him,” Spencer sighed, his fingers tracing her slightly curved spine.

“You gonna be okay?” Piper asked, looking over her shoulder while running a hand through her hair.

“I’m gonna be fine,” he said, rising to meet her lips. She kissed him softly before pulling away and rummaging through her suitcase for clothes, painfully aware of Spencer watching her leave for the bathroom before moving to get himself ready. Piper was out in 5, wearing a mauve sweater and dark slacks, a black belt pulled through the loops with a silver buckle. She slipped on her silver rings and a pair of plum-coloured earrings before grabbing a clip for her hair. She turned, watching Spencer fiddle with his watch. 

“Let me?” Piper asked, and he sighed, holding it out. It was his dusty grey watch, one Gideon had gifted him, and she looped it through the buckle before straightening his tie.

“How do I look?” Spencer asked with a slight snort, as though he actually cared.

“Like my handsome federal genius,” Piper said, pressing a quick kiss. “I gotta go, grab a cup of coffee and meet Rossi,” she said, strapping all three of her holsters. “Good luck with your thing,” she wished, having pulled on her boots and grabbing her grey satchel. Spencer waved, watching her slip out the door. They didn’t have to decide anything just yet.


	5. Chapter 5

“Always on time,” Rossi smirked, watching Piper approach with two lattes.

“Your espresso, just the way you like it,” Piper smiled. “Hotch’s strings?”

“Pulled perfectly,” Dave said, referring to both the coffee and the dark bike parked on the corner. “And here are your keys.”

“Brilliant,” Piper said, draining the last of her chai latte and dropping the empty cup in the bin. “You ready to go?”

“Not in the slightest,” Dave retorted, watching Piper swing her leg over the bike and pull her helmet on.

“Come on,” she teased. “Ringo’s never given you a ride?”

“I don’t appreciate the implication in that question.” Piper grinned as David took a seat behind her. “Just don’t spill my coffee.”

“Then you better hold on,” Piper warned, turning the key and letting the engine purr. David held on to Piper as she weaved between traffic, getting them to the restaurant within 7 minutes flat, without spilling a drop of coffee. Slowly, Dave slid off the bike, watching Piper unclasp the helmet and pull it off, shaking her hair out slightly before clipping it back. “Where’s the body?”

The agent in charge, already on the scene, guided them to the bodies on the ground, a young couple. Piper’s hands slipped into her pockets, surveying the gruesome scene below as the agent summed up what they were looking at. “Tara Hanson was a teacher. Alec Wyseck was a lawyer. They had dinner at a nearby restaurant and were taking an evening stroll. The M.E. said Alec's throat was slit and he was stabbed twice in the back. Tara was stabbed 20 times in the abdomen and torso.” Her eyes narrowed, bending down next to Tara.

“You know, when it comes to mimicry, we often pick people we aspire to be. It’s why younger siblings mimic everything an older sibling does.”

“So?” Rossi asked, not understanding the point.

“So, at a certain age, usually the pubescent stage, we pick and choose the characteristics we like. This guy, he’s probably in his mid-20s. He wants the same respect as the Zodiac but this, this is personal.”

“He absorbed the Zodiac’s M.O. to achieve his own ends,” Rossi surmised. 

“Maybe he didn’t mean for it to happen, but these couples are starting to become surrogates,” Piper said finally, standing up again.

“He left this on the park bench,” the agent said, passing them a plastic bag. “We think it belonged to Nicole.” Rossi showed the trophy to Piper, a nametag with KiKi hung on a beaded loop.

“Her nickname was KiKi,” Piper supplied thickly, watching as Rossi passed her the bag and walked away to answer his cell.

“Rossi,” he greeted.

“The courier service said the envelope was left with cash in their drop box,” Derek relayed. “The messenger had a clean record. He's a star employee.” 

“This was a targeted message for an individual. Very different M.O,” Rossi murmured. “Alright, we’re almost done here.” He slipped the cell into his pocket, turning back to see Piper turn around, her eyes lidded.

“Good memories?” David asked and Piper snorted.

“There’s a cliff about 7 miles away where we used to go diving.” Rossi nodded. “It's a high vantage point,” she said, opening her eyes. “The victims chose it for the view, the unsub so he could see if anyone was coming.”

“It’s isolated too.” Piper shrugged.

“Locals know their way around,” she said. “He waited in the darkness and then struck. That’s what I don’t get. How does he pick his victims?”

“Predictable lovers retreats?” Dave asked, making Piper snort slightly before reaching into her pocket for her cell.

“What’s up, Pen?” she asked, not bothering to step away from the dead bodies. 

“Hey, boo, I tracked the ISP of the user who entered the spam comment to an Internet cafe, but he used a prepaid credit card, so I don't have an I.D.”

“That’s okay. Thanks, Pen,” Piper said, hanging up and slipping it back into her pocket. “Two steps ahead, he used a prepaid credit card at an Internet cafe.”

“If he's doing his best to emulate the Zodiac, killing so quickly would be a mistake,” Dave proposed as they started walking back to the bike. “The shortest time span for a Zodiac was two weeks?” 

“Maybe the unsub doesn't have a choice,” Piper shrugged, ducking under the tape before swinging her leg over the bike. “Maybe he's experiencing a time pressure that he has no control over.”

“I think we’re ready to deliver the profile,” Dave said with a smirk as Piper pulled her helmet on. “If I survive the ride there.”

“You loved it,” Piper insisted before turning the engine over and speeding through alleyways and eventually across the bridge to the field office in the middle of San Francisco.

* * *

Aaron stood in the middle of the team’s line-up, facing the broad audience of federal agents assigned to this killer. His badge was pinned to the lapel of his dark suit jacket, matching his simple, black tie. “Unlike the real Zodiac, whose goal was mass hysteria, this copycat's message is directed at an individual woman with whom he's obsessed.” 

“The women that he's killed so far have been surrogates for her,” Derek continued, with his usual combination of a dark-toned shirt and loose-fitting jeans. “He was either rejected or believes that he can't have her, so he feels a rage towards this woman and any man that she's with.”

“He chose the Zodiac Killer’s M.O. for a particular reason,” Piper added, her arms crossed over her mauve sweater as she leaned against the same table as Derek. “He has a fascination with the killer which probably started from a pubescent age, suggesting he was probably a loner in high school, probably local. He was a gifted kid but at some point in his life, he burned out,” Piper said, too focused on her audience to notice Spencer’s slight slump. “And while he burned out, the people that he was close to probably skyrocketed in terms of their career or social status.”

“What makes you say that?” a voice piped up from the crowd.

“He’s trying to prove himself,” Rossi provided. “He wants to feel as brilliant, famous, and powerful as his predecessor.”

“And his actions may be an attempt to impress the object of his obsession or prove his love,” Emily added, turning to Spencer to keep going, but his mind was lost, barely paying attention to the task at hand.

“You should be looking for a physically fit male in his 20s to 30s,” JJ said, taking over for him. “He's highly intelligent, but he holds a menial or low-level job. He has few friends and fantasizes of a world in which he feels special.”

“And the frequency of the kills suggests that he may be on the verge of losing the object of his obsession,” Hotch finished, dispersing the agents and within the crowd, Piper caught sight of Spencer leaving, her face falling slowly. Emily caught sight of both and cornered Piper while the others started on their lunch break. 

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“He knows about the job offer,” Piper sighed, making Emily’s jaw fall.

“Oh my God, the comms, Pipes, I am so sorry--”

“Don’t worry about it, really,” Piper assured her. “It was going to happen at some point.”

“What can I do to help?” Emily asked, hating herself for the stupid mistake.

“I wish I knew, Em,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. It was starting to reach her shoulders. “I mean, he thinks he messed up with the park raid, he’s worried he isn’t doing anything worthwhile. I don’t know what to tell him and now, he’s gone.”

“Well, you know him better than anyone. Where would he go?” Piper mulled over the question. 

“Not too far, he wants to be able to get back in time in case we get a lead. He’s probably not going to drive and he wants somewhere quiet.” Piper snorted quietly. “Philz Coffee, with a Z, don’t ask me why. It’s just on the corner of the south entrance.” Piper watched her leave, murmuring to Hotch that she’d get the team some good coffee.


	6. Chapter 6

Piper had nailed Spencer’s profile, Emily thought to herself, as she pushed the glass door to the cafe, ordering 7 coffees for the team before sinking into a seat across Spencer. She waited for him to look up from the code in the comment page of the SF Chronicle. He didn’t. “Reid,” she called, “Are you going to tell me what’s up?” He swallowed before meeting Emily’s gaze. He was wearing his warmest coat, a purple scarf around his neck, one Piper had gifted him for their first anniversary.

“Do you ever wonder if you lived up to expectations?” Emily’s brow furrowed, her dark eyes trained on him.

“I, uh, I beat mine. I figured I’d be a bored socialite by 25,” she said, smirking softly. 

“I thought I’d cure schizophrenia by 25,” he said quietly. “Which is kinda silly because I’ve only got a bachelor’s in psychology.” He laughed, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It’s not silly, Reid,” she assured him.

“You know, when I was a kid, people told me that I could do anything,” Spencer continued, still a little too quiet in the sparse cafe.

“You’re afraid you’ve let people down?” Emily asked, slightly confused.

“No, I’m afraid I’ve let myself down,” he confessed.

“By not curing schizophrenia?” Emily asked again, her brow still furrowed.

“No, just because... I don't know why I'm in the FBI.” Emily nodded slowly, starting to understand.

“I see. You're a genius, but you have the same job as me, Morgan, JJ,” she surmised, trying not to be bitter.

“Yeah, exactly,” Spencer said, agreeing with the first half before realising the implication. “Wait, no, that’s not what I meant,” he corrected quickly with a soft laugh, making Emily smile too. “It’s just sometimes--sometimes I get the feeling like...like I should have done something more with my life.”

“Something worthwhile?” Emily asked, reminding him of Piper’s words. He snorted slightly.

“I met her in Texas, you know that? She was working as a history teacher in the middle of nowhere because she thought she wasn’t doing something worthwhile.” 

Emily laughed, “She’s told me the story. Reid, you can’t resent her for this job that she might not even take yet.”

“I don’t,” he protested helplessly. “I’ve always admired her and I’m proud of her. But I can’t help feeling like...like I should be doing more.” Emily nodded, understanding his position.

“Look, how old are you? 29, you--”

“I’m 30,” he amended and Emily’s lips parted softly in surprise.

“We missed your birthday?”

“We’d just gotten back from the case in Philadelphia and none of you would talk to me until Piper convinced you that I hadn’t broken up with her,” he said, smiling slowly as a waitress brought Emily her takeaway cups. Emily winced at the memory.

“Right. Well, the fact of the matter is you’re young.” Emily had turned 41 not that long ago. Derek had turned 38 in the summer. Spencer was younger than all of them, even Piper by a week. “There’s still time.”

“By the time Nikola Tesla was 30, he’d already invented the induction motor,” Spencer countered, leaving Emily speechless. Suddenly, she understood Piper’s predicament. 

“You know what? You might be right,” Emily said eventually. There was no other option left. Positive reinforcement wasn’t working. “You don't hear that much about child prodigies once they grow up. In fact, most of them turn out average.” Spencer’s brow furrowed in confusion at the change of tactics.

“That’s not true,” Spencer retorted with a rueful smile that he was fighting hard to dissolve. “Are you trying to reverse-psychology me?” Emily shrugged.

“I’m just telling it like it is,” she said simply, reaching over to grab the comment page Spencer was working on.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she took his pen from him.

“Well, you just told me yourself you're washed up,” Emily said, easily hiding her smile. “I should take a look at this.” She began circling random words around the cipher, not wanting to actually ruin his deciphering.

“It's--seriously, what are you doing?” Spencer began to panic as Emily kept doodling around his work.

“I'm just looking to see what you missed,” she claimed. 

“Don't do--you're gonna actually mess it up. Emily-- give it back.” She couldn’t help the smile as Spencer snatched it back from her and reviewed what she’d been doing. His attention trained on the words rather than the unintelligible cipher. “Wait a minute, that's it. The code is in the words.” Emily’s eyes narrowed as she passed him his coffee and took her own, listening intently to his explanation. "China Weekly Post, page F-4.” Emily reached into her coat pocket to pull out her cellphone. “The spam had to be converted from matrix code to binary code, then switched to base 8 before being translated back into letters. I can go into more detail if you want.”

“Later,” she dismissed with a soft smile. “How smart would a person have to be to write code like that?”

“Beyond smart,” Spencer said, leaning back in his chair with his cup of coffee. “Profoundly gifted. An I.Q. Of at least 160.”

“That must change the profile then,” Emily said, dialling Hotch.

“The unsub could still hold a menial or low-level job,” Spencer countered thoughtfully. “Many believe that beyond an I.Q. of 120, success is determined by other factors.” Emily looked over his shoulder to see Piper poke her head through the glass door.

“You said you were getting coffee,” she said, pouting slightly as she joined them. “It’s been 12 minutes.” Emily laughed, passing her the chai latte, making Piper’s pout eased as she dragged a chair over. “So, what do you have?” 

“What makes you think we have anything?” Spencer protested as Piper took a long sip of her drink.

“You’re doing that twitchy thing with your nose and your hands are just begging to gesture wildly,” she explained with an easy smile.

“You know where we can find the Chinese Weekly Post?” Emily asked her.

“Yeah, Chinatown’s only a few minutes away. You need to brush up on your Mandarin?” Piper asked, without any humour in her voice, as thought that was a regular occurrence.

“It’s a highly educated hunch,” Spencer said, making Piper feel at ease at having her boyfriend in a regular mood. “Can you take me there?” Piper shrugged.

“You’ll have to hold on to your coffee and I did not bring an extra helmet.” She chugged the last of her drink before slamming it onto the table. “And I’d take those coffees to the team quickly. Morgan’s showing withdrawal symptoms.” Emily groaned, picking up the tray as Piper linked her pinkie in Spencer’s, leading him to the bike parked outside the federal building.


	7. Chapter 7

Piper could only smile and wave awkwardly at the receptionist while her boyfriend rummaged through the neat piles of papers, leaving a wake of destruction behind him. She tried to squash the rising urge to fix up the papers but that wasn’t the priority. She was on a call with Penelope, trying to track down a genius in her city who had a menial job. “Hey, Pen, I need to track down someone with about a 160 IQ. If that’s possible. I mean, I don’t know who on earth would list that kind of--”

“ _ Checking the Bay Area Mensa Society which is kind of slumming it, 'cause folks can get in with a measly I.Q. of 130.” _

“Is that bad?” Piper asked. She didn’t see the big deal about high IQs. Frankly, they all seemed like smug assholes. “I don’t care. Maybe check old school records? Look for any kind of inconsistency. A high SAT or GPA in comparison with a minimum wage or lower-level occupation.”

“ _ Gotcha. What period am I aiming for?” _

“This guy’s in his mid-20s. Also see if you can hack into the office’s surveillance footage.”

_ “Pinging the Class of 2000. See ya on the flip side.” _ With that, Penelope hung up and Piper couldn’t fight back a snort.

“Did Garcia find something?” Spencer asked absently, still going through newspapers in the English section.

“She’s looking,” Piper sighed. “You need any help?”

“Nope, found it.” He rose up from his squat, pulling out the newspaper and skimming through to the right page and his forehead wrinkled. “You could do so much better?” Piper chewed her lip in thought for a moment. “Who's this message for? The writer's a genius, but the recipient would have to be, too, in order to decode it.” 

“Alec was stabbed in the back twice.” Piper said quietly, the gears in her head turning. “If he’s a surrogate for the recipient, then the unsub’s been betrayed, multiple times. The surrogate could be both a rival and a friend.”

“Is that possible?” Spencer asked.  _ Could rivals be friends too? _

“Weren’t we?” Piper scoffed, answering the question for him. “Tara was overkill though, probably because she rejected the unsub and went for the recipient instead.” Spencer narrowed his eyes as she started to pace, shaking her hand out as she tried to put the pieces together. “He’s mirroring the Zodiac’s M.O. because the surrogates are a couple,” she murmured, starting to dial Garcia again.

_ “Oracle on duty. Spit your verse,”  _ Penelope greeted.

“Can you compile a list of couples that match our victimology who have booked a wedding venue in the last month?”

_ “Faster than Lightning McQueen.” _

“You think he’s targeting an engaged couple?” Spencer asked, watching Piper slip the phone into her pocket.

“I just have a hunch,” Piper murmured, settling on her bike, her interest only piquing when Spencer’s cell buzzed. “Something wrong?” He passed the phone over and Piper flinched at the crime scene picture.

“Cabdriver was murdered,” Spencer relayed. “In 1969, the Zodiac killed the cab driver from the backseat.”

“Yeah, except…” Piper read the bottom texts from the group text. “Cab driver was shot from the outside and Morgan thinks someone was inside the back seat. He left a souvenir too--” Piper passed the cell back to Spencer before reaching for the helmet. Spencer looked at the photo of the little boy.

“Emily’s trying to place it from the field office, we should join her.”

“Hold on,” Piper said, turning the engine over as Spencer straddled the bike carefully behind her. He still thought she should use a car. Speed was no priority over safety.

* * *

As of now, the team was hunting 2 geniuses and a missing woman. The little boy in the photo was Robbie Shaw, a young boy who disappeared from Mill Valley in 2000 and no suspects were ever identified. David found the last place the driver’s fare was picked up. But the Marina District, according to Piper, was filled with bars, restaurants and shops. Anyone could have been inside the cab. Derek hadn’t found any missing women in that neighbourhood. “Passengers from the Marina would be young, educated, well-to-do,” Piper relayed from experience, making Derek give her a strange look. 

“Just because you used to live there?” he said, smiling even in the harshest of situations.

“Yeah, actually. What about it, Chicago?” Piper retorted, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Children,” David reprimanded from his perch on the table. “What’s he doing?” He gestured to their young genius.

“He’s doing a thing,” Piper said, slightly worried. Spencer hadn’t eaten anything all day, his takeout left untouched on the table. His energy was probably coming from the 4 empty cups of coffee and probably a tablet of Adderall.

“We've been thinking about this case too linearly,” Spencer said, his voice sped up. “Based on the complexity of the code, it's obvious this unsub is operating on several different levels, so we need to start thinking in multiple dimensions.” Piper scrunched her nose, “What does that mean?” But Spencer didn’t deign to answer, focusing on taking everything down. So the rest of them waited for JJ and Emily to finish poring through hours of surveillance footage, taking the time to refresh themselves and have dinner.

Piper had packed up all the empty takeout boxes seeing as she’d pulled the short end of the chopstick -- the new method JJ had come with so no-one would argue about clean-ups -- and thrown them out except for one last box, the fork balanced neatly on top, just the way she’d left them for Spencer to eat. She glanced over to the glass board which was empty, Spencer sitting cross-legged on a wheeled chair, just staring at the board. She faltered, her right foot slipping back to support her. Her eyes closed and instantly she remembered an old memory. 

> _ The psych labs at Harvard were long, the hallways longer. She was young, only 19, her hair longer back then. If she could just get this chapter in her thesis just right, maybe then she could get some sleep. But her body was too tired of her stubbornness.  _
> 
> _ Groaning, Piper had reached for the empty mug to grab a refill of coffee. Everyone in her class knew, this lab was hers. She’d bought a second-hand coffee machine just for it. Her classes were longer than most, and her address book was filled with personal numbers of all her teachers.  The brightest girl in the class. Not that her father particularly believed it.  _
> 
> _ A headache had flashed in the back of her skull and she’d almost trembled.  Get a grip . Her final exam for the honours course was tomorrow afternoon and if this thesis impressed her professors, she’d be the youngest student in her graduating class to hold a doctorate. That had to impress her father. Maybe it would be just enough for him to attend the ceremony.  _
> 
> _ Her head was pounding as she sipped the bitter brown liquid. Her masters and her PhD topic were both the same, focusing on counselling psychology, which meant her secondary research was completely applicable for the exam. If she could just get her brain to focus… She wasn’t supposed to take the pills at all, but she hadn’t had one in at least 2 weeks. Just one more would be fine… _

Piper shook herself out of the memory. Things hadn’t really gotten bad until her second PhD. The pills had become a crutch. Every time her mind slipped off track, she’d pop another one and if she hadn’t known Arthur… She dreaded to think of the consequences. Spencer was still just staring at the blank board. “Spencer?” He didn’t look back. It wasn’t until he felt Piper’s warm hand squeeze his shoulder that his muscles relaxed.

“Hey,” he murmured, his mind still on the case but he tilted his head to feel the back of her hand on his cheek before pressing a soft kiss to it. She left his shoulder for a single moment to pull a chair over to his side.

“Spencer, you need to stop.” His brows furrowed and his gaze shifted to her delicate brown eyes. 

“I can figure this out,” he insisted.

“Not tonight,” she said gently, taking his hands into her own.

“Look, nothing is accidental. Nothing this unsub does is accidental. The message in the "China Weekly Post" was on page F-4. Why F-4?” 

“Spencer.” His name was like a prayer on her lips. She needed him to stop, to step back from the ledge because she wasn’t sure if she could pull him out of the rabbit hole he was heading for. “You need to eat something.”

“No, I need to focus,” Spencer dismissed her, turning back to the empty board.

“You can eat and focus,” Piper tried, reaching for the closed box. “And I may not have a high IQ,” she proposed, opening the flaps up, “but I know this city.”

“He knows this city,” Spencer murmured. “High IQ.” Piper took advantage of his confusion and the otherwise empty office to feed him quickly with the fork. “Mph, what are you doing?”

“You can’t think if you’re hungry,” Piper justified. “Trust me, I know. Eat.” He pouted but took the box anyway. Piper watched him eat hungrily, his eyes returning to their bright amber colour. She got up, spotting the messy files that used to be pinned on the board and started organising it. Spencer finally looked over at his girlfriend between bites. Her expression was uncomfortable, morose even as her usually tender eyes were downcast, her lips failing their usual quirk.

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing,” Piper said quietly, arranging the photos and files. Spencer didn’t press further, just waiting for her to talk about what was bothering her. Silence tended to provoke an answer rather than an incessant question. “I don’t know what my IQ is,” she murmured softly, her voice barely a whisper. Spencer’s brow furrowed, still opting to remain silent and eat. “I mean, my school had them but they were optional and I didn’t know if…” She paused to take a breath and think through what she was going to say. “I didn’t want to be a disappointment so I didn’t take it and now with all this--” she gestured at the printed out list of everyone in the Bay Area Mensa Society that had an IQ over 160 -- “Kinda feels like I’m missing out,” she scoffed.

“You haven’t disappointed anyone,” Spencer said between bites of chow mein. “And your dad is kind of an asshole.” She snorted quietly.

“So, F-4? What does it mean? Is he playing Battleships?” Spencer laughed softly before wrinkling his brow. 

“No, but it is a chess position,” Spencer said, about to abandon his takeout when Piper stopped him. 

“Your only job right now is to finish that box. Tell me what you need.”

“Geographic profile,” Spencer sighed, returning to his food and Piper nodded, pulling out the map of her city and pinning it to the glass board. Spencer stood up, catching his girlfriend’s look and grabbing the takeout box, eating as he stepped towards the board. 

“He’s murdering people according to a chess game?” Piper asked as she stepped aside.

“Specifically game 6 of Fischer versus Spassky in 1972, one of the greatest chess matches ever played. The murder locations correspond with the final 3 moves of the game.” 

“Okay, but there are 204 squares on a chess board,” Piper recalled, her brow furrowed as she picked up a pen.

“How do you know that?” Piper shrugged.

“I get bored when you and Em play chess,” she said. “So what’s the endgame?” The others must have noticed something happened, but neither of the doctors noticed them collecting behind them. Emily and JJ hadn’t found anything on the surveillance footage, and frankly this seemed more interesting.

“There wasn’t one. Spassky conceded the match.”

“And if he hadn’t?” Spencer didn’t have to think twice.

“Spassky would have been checkmated or he would have lost his Queen.” Piper’s forehead unwrinkled as the metaphor clicked into place and her phone rang. She answered, putting Penelope on speaker.

_ “Okay, so I cross-referenced the IQ list with local high school Zodiac enthusiasts and then casted them into the future and I hit something. These two chess prodigies and best friends wrote about the Zodiac and both of them have an IQ of over 160. The first matches your profile exactly. The academically gifted Caleb Rossmore is a city parks employee while the best friend is Harvey Morell who is now an engineer at a Chinese computing firm.” _

“He have a fiancée?” David asked. 

_ “Yes, Marisa Devon looks like the two female victims.”  _

“She’s the surrogate,” Emily said, “The woman we’re looking for.”

“Caleb could be jealous of his friend,” Derek proposed. 

“Or what if he's afraid of losing Harvey?” Piper said quietly. “If he was a child prodigy, he may no longer feel special as an adult. Gifted kid syndrome. Harvey was able to adapt but Caleb got left behind.”

“He could be trying to hold on to him,” Aaron followed along, “Harvey's engagement could have been a trigger.”

“Spassky's Queen was in square E-8, so that would land us in Richmond,” Spencer said, part of his mind still mulling over Piper’s words. He couldn’t help but feel as though her words were levelled at him.

“Anything in Richmond of significance to the unsubs, Garcia?” Derek asked.

“Always asking the right questions. Harvey’s dad worked as a chemistry teacher in the sixties and… Caleb lived there in 2008. He worked at the Powerlinks Gym on Second and Hill and the Dragon Temple Restaurant at 636 Mason.”

“I know the restaurant,” Piper voiced and Aaron sent JJ with Rossi and Emily to the gym while the others followed Piper’s bike to the restaurant. 


	8. Chapter 8

The approach was silent. Piper turned off the lights and the engine a while away, her FBI vest visible over the green wool top. Spencer noticed her shiver just slightly as they entered the restaurant. The door was left open, most likely by Caleb and Harvey. The gym had turned up empty and the four of them could hear raised voices from the back of the restaurant. Spencer made an obvious move to the storeroom while the others used the shadows to their advantage, hearing snippets of Caleb and Harvey’s conversation.

“She's an inferior being, Harvey,” Caleb said, pleading with his best friend. 

“She's a good person,” Harvey insisted.

“She is an imbecile!” Caleb cried, spitting slightly. “How you ended up with her has confounded me from day one. She'll never understand you like I do.” Derek watched Piper edge around the racks to get a better angle at Caleb while he continued arguing. Aaron and Derek slipped through the shadows as Spencer made his way forward slowly, shrouded by darkness. Piper had no sight of him. “I know you had fun tonight,” Caleb tried. “Almost as much fun as what we did when we were 15.” But one look at Marisa made him swell with confidence. “He didn't tell you, did he?”

“Caleb, don’t,” Harvey warned, but Caleb was on a roll. 

“We murdered little Robbie Shaw. How old was he, Harvey, 7?”

“Shut up,” Harvey beseeched.

“I did all this to save you, from a life of misery, of pretending to be somebody you're not.” Not that Piper could see, but Caleb’s eyes were welling up with tears at being so misunderstood.

“You murdered all those people to save me?” 

“Stop being so sanctimonious! It doesn't suit you,” Caleb yelled at him before taking a moment to calm himself. “Now... Do you want to kill her or should I?” Harvey’s face blanched. “You know that's how the game has to end.” 

“This isn't a game,” Harvey said quietly. 

“If we get rid of her now, we'll be long gone before she's found,” Caleb pleaded, “And the police won't catch us because the murders were perfect. Just like Robbie Shaw.”

“Not really,” Spencer said, finally stepping into the light. “If they were perfect, I probably wouldn't be here right now.” 

“I had nothing to do with this,” Harvey was quick to surrender his hands to the tall FBI agent. Caleb easily recognised him from the news from 2 days ago. 

“You really went out of your way to impress Harvey, Caleb,” Spencer said, keeping his tone calm as he attempted to divide an already broken friendship. “The murders, the chess game, all designed to entice him.”

“Yes,” Harvey said, pointing at his former friend. “He is pathological.” Spencer resisted the urge to tell him to shut up. 

“I mean, after you killed Robbie Shaw together, you probably thought that you guys had an unbreakable bond,” Spencer continued, ignoring Harvey and his fiancée. 

“He murdered Robbie by himself,” Harvey persisted. 

“When we took him into the woods and strangled him…” Caleb swivelled his head to look at Harvey and Marisa. “I’d never seen you look so exhilarated. The look on your face,” Caleb smiled at the memory of the two of them, invincible and unstoppable. “You can’t deny that, Harvey.”

“But afterwards, something changed. The two of you grew apart,” Spencer said gently.

“I. Wasn’t. There,” Harvey implored.

“You pulled away from me,” Caleb said softly, heartbroken and Spencer was starting to feel like somewhat of a couple’s counsellor. “Do you know how much that hurt?” Piper was kneeling, her gun aimed at Caleb’s torso, trying to focus on the situation, not on how much leaving this job and this family would hurt Spencer. “I would have done anything for you, Harvey. I looked up to you.”

“You know what I think, Harvey?” Spencer voiced. “I think killing Robbie Shaw was your idea.”

“No,” Harvey denied, but his voice and adamance was becoming faint. 

“You chose him because his brother used to pick on you in school,” Caleb admitted, his gun lowering slightly, not enough to eliminate him as a risk. Spencer’s division was working. 

“You're successful, you're charismatic, you're dominant, which means that you most likely made the plans and Caleb followed them,” Spencer said, keeping his eyes alert in the flickering light. “Let me ask you this-- where did you hide the body? Listen to me-- if I was gonna kill somebody and hide a body, I think I would probably use sulfuric acid. Especially if my father was a chemistry teacher. Right, Caleb?” Harvey was starting to panic, not that you would see it from his expression.

“Caleb... Don't listen to him. He's trying to trick us,” he said.

“Do you trust him, Caleb?” Spencer asked, and Caleb was starting to become more and more overwhelmed, much like a ticking bomb. He desperately yearned for things to go back to the way they were in high school, and somehow, Harvey understood that. At least he pretended he did.

“Hey, Caleb! Whatever happens, we'll protect each other.” And finally, Spencer had the perfect opportunity to wedge the final nail between them.

“Oh, I'm sure that he'll protect you if he's around,” Spencer affirmed cheerfully. “I mean, he is moving to Shanghai in a couple of months. He put the transfer in about a year ago. Did you--did your good friend Harvey not tell you about that?” Spencer pursed his lips, watching Caleb glance at his friend in disbelief. “Well, I'm sure that he'll send you a postcard.” Harvey recognised his loss immediately in the betrayed expression of his friend.

“No--”

“Robbie’s bones are buried in his backyard,” Caleb said defeatedly, dropping his gun so that Piper could kick it back. Spencer moved to arrest him for the murder of Robbie Shaw, David Atley and Nicole Puli, Alec Wyseck and Tara Hanson, Jonah Shepherd and the kidnapping of Marisa Devon. Piper pulled out her own set of handcuffs, arresting Harvey for the murder of Robbie Shaw and escorting him out. With the both of them in the squad car and Derek offering to drive Marisa home, Piper was free to go back to the loaned bike. Spencer watched her retreating frame unstrapping her vest and pulling out gloves from her trouser pocket.

“Piper!” She swung around, a slightly panicked expression on her face, until she realised it was just Spencer and not Hotch reprimanding her for something. She sniffed, shivering again just slightly. It never snowed here, but Piper wouldn’t be surprised if it started raining in a few hours.

“What’s up?” Piper asked, stopping to let him approach. Except she had expected him to stop at about 2 feet. Instead, he didn’t stop until he was inches from her body, pressing a lengthy kiss to her lips. She fumbled the gloves, winding her arms around his waist. His lips were warm and soft against her slightly chapped and cold ones. She was breathless by the time he pulled away. She didn’t know if she could actually speak and when she did, she didn’t think she could stop. “What was that for? I mean not that I didn’t--”

“I love you,” Spencer blurted out. “And-and you aren’t leaving me behind or-or betraying me in any way by taking it.” Piper looked at his hands that were gently placed on her hips and she held them up, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“I love you too. But it’s like I said this morning.” Piper smiled at him, her eyes glittering under the poorly lit street. “We don’t have to decide anything yet.” Aaron couldn’t help a small smile as he glanced at his subordinates in the distance, watching fondly as Piper helped him out of his vest and the fight to hold back a snicker as Spencer tried, and failed, to clamber on the bike properly behind her. And it wasn’t until Derek prodded him that they left with their victim in the back-seat.


End file.
